Amicum Fidelem
by Graybiel
Summary: A disgraced member of a minor noble house enters the horror that is the Imperial Guard. With no divine Emperor in sight, to survive he'll have to rely on his strength, cunning, and the bonds of loyalty he forms along the way. Written in memory of a friend. In the Emperor's name!
1. Prologue

_**AMICUM FIDELEM**_

Prologue

_**IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME**_

Daniel came from a lucky family. Literally. His surname apparently translated to "lucky" in High Imperial Gothic. Regardless as to whether or not that was true, his family could certainly be called lucky. The story went that his ten times great grandfather settled on the cozy little world of Yosemight VI after a grand life of traversing the Imperium, slaying xeno and heretic with righteous fury. Within two generations of said settlement, the lush forests of Yosemight VI would give way to arid desert in the wake of a devastating war of which much was lost or obscured. Despite the bleak future now before many of the world's denizens, the age old family Felix just happened to own a sizable 47.23897% of the planet's still habitable space. It had not been a matter of coincidence that the Governors of Yosemight VI bore the name Felix for nigh on 800 years, before a dishonored Lord Commander with a sizable pocketbook set his eyes on the small world adrift in the Segmentum Pacificus. Since those lofty days of power, long since past, the family Felix had yet to tarnish, having birthed several heroes amongst the Imperial Guard, with one or two of them even making it home! It was even whispered amongst the oldest of Felix elders that one great uncle or another had been selected to join a Adeptus Astartes Chapter that had helped fight off an ork insurgence into the Yosemight System six centuries ago, but there was no record on world that could support that particular rumor.

Despite the disproportionate amount of fortune that the Emperor had bestowed upon their family, Daniel was convinced that the distant Lord of Mankind had a personal vendetta against him. In a family that had for generations been warriors and politicians born and bred, Daniel was an obvious exception. He had the same tan skin, same brown hair, and same chocolate eyes as any of his kin. He had the same strength, the same speed, the same build, but what he lacked was far more important, and ran far deeper. He lacked the drive to kill.

Since before the Felix name had left the governor's seat, a boy was not a true Felix unless he made a sojourn to the feral in system world of Yosemight IV and managed to kill one of the savage abhuman vermin that called its jungles home. Just as all Felix boys had before him, an eleven year old Daniel had journeyed with two of his like aged cousins and a seasoned elder to hunt the distant descendents of man.

The abhumans of Yosemight IV were some offshoot of the fabled Beastmen of yore, now long gone. If one were to glimpse one in the corner of their eye, they might mistake them for baseline humans, but any further inspection would make apparent the oddly shaped feet, goatlike ears, and coarse hair covering much of their forms.

Daniel had seen enough of their heads lining Felix estates to recognize them by now.

The Inquisition had declared them close enough to baseline humans to be deemed 'salvageable' in the form of cannon fodder once they had developed and populated a bit more. Seeing as the only thing found on Yosemight IV in abundance was life-threatening flora, the abhumans had been left alone, for the most part. The occasional poaching done by the High Families of Yosemight VI was largely overlooked, so long as said poaching never caused major damage to the population of bodies that might someday serve as shields for IG across the Imperium's many battlefields.

The young Felix had felt his heart pounding the inside of his chest like a piston as he searched through the brush for signs of movement. Once the elder had set him up in a tree not deemed likely to eat him with a finely gilded Long-Las, he had left Daniel to his hunting. His heart had raced for several minutes, but his quickly slowed as his boredom grew, and before he knew it he had sat in that tree for some hours, thanking the Emperor that the insect net prevented some of the 10 centimeter long bugs from getting any closer than they did.

After the distant sun had long since passed its zenith, Daniel saw movement. It moved silently amongst the brush, the product of a lifetime in the undergrowth. It moved so carefully that it was a miracle Daniel had spotted it at all, its garbs meant to blend in with the foliage. His pulse once again speeding, Daniel readied his Long-Las and looked down the scope to his quarry, just as his father had drilled him time and time again in the estate's firing ranges. He found his target. He aimed carefully. It was only when his sights were centered directly on the things grotesque forehead that he realized his target was female. It lacked the coarse beard and imposing visage of the ugly heads that lined his ancient halls. Shortly after this discovery, Daniel realized that not only was she female, but she was a mother. A tiny form was firmly grasped in her arms, its little head firmly held to a furry teat. He must have gasped or made some such noise, because it wasn't a moment after he spotted the kid that her ears swiveled in his direction, and her eyes found his. They sat there for a moment, two impossibly distant relatives joined by the cruelest of circumstances, and as their gazes held, Daniel felt some strange kinship with her as he saw in her eyes the same fear that gripped his cousins bound for the Guard. A fear of the unknown. A fear implausibly, yet _undeniably_ human.

A fear realized when a lasround punched through her chest, then her through her child, and finally into the soil of her verdant, virgin world.

Perhaps if he shot her before he saw her for what she was, things would have been different. Perhaps if she had been male, or perhaps of she had no child, it might not have been as bad. But she _was _female, and she _had _a child, and he had come to realize that she _was no less human than he was._

His cousin, some sixty meters away, had fired the shot. He was applauded back home for slaying two vermin with a single shot. He would be remembered for that shot. Daniel would be remembered for how he had screamed, and how he had cried on and off until well after he returned from the trip. He would be remembered as a coward in a family of champions. And his family would _never _let him forget. The last words his father said to him before he left for the Imperial Guard, six years later, where to "die worthy of our name."

The first day of his life amongst the legend that is the Imperial Guard, Daniel Felix felt anything but lucky.

_**IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME**_

AN: I have been a member of the Fanfiction community for some time now, though more of a reader than a writer. I've posted one or two fics I didn't have the drive to complete, but this is an exception. Almost a year ago, a very good friend and fellow Fanfiction writer took her own life. There are times when I stop what I'm doing to read one of her fics, torturing myself wondering what she would have written next. I've decided to write a work in remembrance of her, of a kind and loyal friend. This will be a story about loyalty and friendship, in a world where death is always a breath away. Reviews are appreciated, and I'll try to work updates into a busy college schedule. This is the one Fanfic I am absolutely sure to complete. Mea amica pulchra, aeternum vale!


	2. Chapter 1

_**AMICUM FIDELEM**_

Chapter One

Beginnings

_**IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME**_

When the assigned day came, Daniel was awake long before his alarm went off. He sat in his bed, staring at the flashing lights boldly declaring the time, both local and Imperial. He could certainly hear the blaring noise, but had no inclination to do anything about it. It was exactly thirty seconds after the alarm went off that the servitor that had shared his room for the last eleven years powered on.

The decrepit thing began to move from its position beside the door to turn the alarm off and rouse what its pseudo- mechanical conscience told it was its sleeping master, but Daniel mustered up the will to shut off the alarm to spare it the trouble. Sensing that its master was in fact awake, the ancient cyborg returned to its vigil at the door, before its inbuilt timer told it that Daniel must need help getting dressed.

With a depressed sigh, Daniel again came to terms with the fact this would be the last time he would wake up to the old thing. He knew for a fact that it would be disposed of as soon as he left the house. The servitor, labeled EC430092 had helped him prepare for his day for over a decade, but was rapidly approaching the limit of its usefulness. For the Noble family Felix, servitors were a dime a dozen, and once one ceased to perform to their standard, they were either thrown out or deliberately destroyed, depending on what information they had had access to.

EC430092, responsible for nothing more than smoothing Daniel's mornings, had no access to anything remotely important, by family standards, but the simple fact that he had come to care for the thing would likely result in its destruction. His father had made it clear that any evidence of his presence within the estate would be removed even faster than he would.

Hearing the familiar _whrrrr_ emanating from the thing, Daniel began to prepare for the day, a pang in his chest as the blank, emotionless eyes of EC430092 watched him ready himself for the last time. His attire was luxurious without being gaudy, like the so many 'lesser' houses, as his aunts put it. His smallclothes were soft and breathable, a necessity on a desert world. His shirt was well tailored and covered by a waistcoat upon which were stitched the various holy sigils favored by his house. His pants were a dark black, as demanded by social protocol, which Daniel personally thought was stupid, considering the most common cause of death in the hive below them was heat stroke. His shoes fit him perfectly, just like everything else, and shined brightly after all the attention his eager servitor had given them the night before. His ensemble was completed by a large greatcoat, another _wonderful _choice, with the Felix family crest emblazoned over the heart. Once EC430092 had straightened his attire and applied a light layer of cologne, Daniel was ready to face the day, and left his room for the personal hell that would be his last breakfast with his family.

After the master had left the room, EC430092 returned to its place of vigil, its manufactured mind blank but the tiny, tiny part of it that was still Elbeth Clarke, a woman accused of a crime she did not commit, wept at the loss of her first, and last, kind master.

_**IN THE EMPERORS NAME**_

Breakfast was a quiet and solemn affair, not that it had ever been lively. His younger cousins continued to glance at him when they thought no one was looking. His older relatives did so too, but they were more subtle about it, and did so with intent of appraisal rather than morbid curiosity. As he hate, Daniel could feel the eyes scanning his form, judging his every twirl of the fork, cut of the knife, scoop of the spoon. They were judging him, as they had for years. Deciding if he was worthy of their name. Not one of them questioned if he would die. The few of the family Felix who returned from the stars were warriors born, those who had killed the largest abhumans they could find, the ones that wrecked havoc on the denizens of the hive below their feet, the ones who salivated at the sight of blood.

Daniel was never one of those.

Daniel never wanted to _be_ one of those.

It was the latter that was his undoing.

The problem wasn't that Daniel couldn't shoot a target. That had never been a problem. Daniel could out shoot some of his uncles on the firing range. What made him hated, what made him despised, what made him a _stain _on the tapestry that was Felix honor, was that he wouldn't shoot the target if it would result in the target's death.

His father had thought it was a fluke. It couldn't be that _his _son wouldn't kill an abhuman, it couldn't be _his _son who refused to kill the Emperor's enemies, it couldn't be _Zekael Felix's _son who was_ weak_. His father had it in his head that it was a fluke. That that particular abhuman looked to close to the Emperor's chosen for his son to shoot, devout as he was. Once he had stopped crying after the incident on Yosemight IV, Daniel was lead into the shooting range. The very same rifle he was meant to kill with on the feral world was waiting for him. Also waiting for him, at the other end of the firing ranged, strapped down so as to be _impossible _to miss, was a mutant.

Not an abhuman. A mutant.

For the less than educated, there isn't much of a difference, but there is. Abhumans are certified by the Ecclesiarchy, as far as one can get from baseline human before becoming something other than the Emperor's chosen children. Anything less that abhuman was equal to or worse than the dreaded xenos. Mutants were unholy monstrosities to be killed on sight. That is what his father expected him to do. Just maybe, its what he _should _have done. But he didn't. He couldn't. He knew he shouldn't sympathize with it. It looked more like a sack of flesh-tone sacks than a living thing. But it still breathed. It still wailed. It still cried. Daniel couldn't shoot it.

His father was livid. His father was _seething._ His father gave him such a look of loathing that Daniel was afraid he'd get shot. He wasn't, of course, but he feared to this day.

As a child, he would sit at his father's side, his right and privilege as his son. He hadn't done so in years. Today was no exception.

It wasn't until after the meal had concluded, until after his family left the table,one by one, in order of importance, until after the servitors had finished cleaning the table, that his father addressed him.

"Follow" was all he said.

Daniel followed him through the estate. His relatives were no longer being subtle, and murmuring followed where ever it was the two were going. The estate was large, full of many winding passageways full of priceless artifacts that would catch ones eye, so it wasn't until they entered a long chamber lined with the busts and names of family members long dead that Daniel knew where they were. Both he and his father bowed in reverence to the massive gold Aquila that dominated the family shrine, their hands across their chests mimicking the holy icon. Once they offered said patronage, his father continued walking, until the two of them abruptly stopped before a particular pair of names. The Felix family tree lined the walls of this sacred place, and even if he hadn't been drilled in all the thousands of names of his long dead kin, Daniel would never forget the names before him.

His mothers name.

His grandfathers name.

His brothers name.

Zekael moved to grab the back of his head and force him to bow before them, but his head was already against the ground, his knees folded beneath him.

"Pray for their forgiveness." he said.

Daniel prayed. He prayed hard. He prayed with all his might. His grandfather had died in Daniel's youth, a decorated member of the Guard, one of the few who managed to come back. His brother had died a few years ago, they did not know exactly when or exactly where, as the Departmento couldn't locate or retrieve a body that was eaten by Tyranids. His mother had died when... Daniel didn't want to think about his mother's death. He focused all his will on keeping himself from shedding tears, or his father would ensure he didn't even reach the Guard alive.

His father kicked him once he felt he had shown proper respect. Ignoring the pain in his side, Daniel stood up, brushing himself off to ensure his attire still looked as immaculate as expected of a Felix. Without a word, the older man left the room, his son automatically falling in step behind him. He knew exactly where they were headed now. It had been years since Daniel had walked this path, but he still remembered it. The farther they walked, the less and less family members were to be seen, and the estate around them grew silent as a grave. The tension in the air was palpable as Daniel did his utmost to stop his heart from beating so quickly and his forehead from sweating so much. Finally, after a walk that seemed far longer than it possibly could have been, they arrived at a large pair of doors. His bag was already there. At a gesture from his father, a servitor on standby opened the massive doors lined on the inside with wood from Yosemight VI's ancient past.

The moment they cracked open, the sweltering heat Daniel had experienced less than twice in his life blasted in. He failed to not avert his eyes from the blinding glare that was the outside world. A final show of weakness before he left his father forever.

Though he had clearly caught the flinch, his father neglected to comment on it. Instead, he roughly shoved the bag into his arms, and said just five words.

"Die worthy of our name."

With that said, Zekael slammed the doors shut on his last living son, and Daniel waked away from his ancestral home for what was likely the very last time. Turning back he realized that the door that was just slammed on him was a service door not intended for human use. Knowing he had no hope of turning back, Daniel turned his gaze to the vast open sky above and endless waves of rolling sand below. The world was before him, and the world was harsh.

Hot wind slapped his face.

It had been almost six years since Daniel had last exited the estate, and the malicious Yosemight sun had not diminished in strength since then. Daniel needed to get to the Departmento recruiting center down in the middle hive. The only way to do that from here would be the massive maintenance lift intended for the servitors which repaired the upper regions of the aptly named Felix spire.

Daniel knew that there was a similar lift intended for human passengers within the estate itself that would take him straight to the middle hive, and his father knew that as well. Regardless, he had to take the servitor lift, or wait until someone reopened the estate doors. The wind and sun would kill him long before that happened.

Swinging his bag over his shoulder, Daniel headed for the lift.

_**IN THE EMPEROR'S NAME**_

It had taken a grand total of four lifts and passages filled to the brim with fumbling an _whrrr_ing servitors before Daniel managed to reach a part of the hive intended for human use. His greatcoat had done a wonderful job at protecting him from flailing servitor limbs and skin flaying sandy winds due to its military grade synthetic fabric, but it had simultaneously cooked him alive when under the pounding Yosemight sun or in the cramped metal maintenance lifts.

The stray claw-like hand of a servitor had sliced open his bag at one point, and before he could do anything several outfits were trampled and ruined under what served as feet for the bumbling cyborgs. The cloth they had destroyed had been worth more than the servitors themselves, but Daniel was not overly upset by this, as it was not very likely that he would have any chance to wear them. To ensure something similar didn't happen, anything in his bag of great personal value was carefully tucked into one of the various inner pockets of his greatcoat. This included a number of pictures of favorite cousins or copies of his favorite novels in the estate library. A small photo depicting his brother, parents, and grandfather from many years ago was tucked inside his pocket watch emblazoned with the Imperial Aquila as an extra safety measure.

After some guidance from a less-than-amicable machine cultist, Daniel final managed to find one of the personnel lifts that could take him to the proper level of the hive. Though the environment proved far more comfortable than any he was exposed to thus far, it still proved to be an incredibly awkward ride. The lift had come from the top of the hive spire, and contained two other young men in formal attire roughly equivalent to Daniel's own, save for a barely perceptible drop in quality and an extremely perceptible difference in crests. The two men seized Daniel up, just as he did them, but unlike his family, they did not find him wanting.

As he stepped into the lift they both awkwardly shuffled to make room for him, hardly necessary with a lift of this size. The three doomed men stood in silence for the better part of a half hour, and the lift still didn't seem to slow.

"Mekheim." the one closer to Daniel suddenly blurted. "My name is Xerxus Mekheim."

Both Daniel and the third man eyed Xerxus curiously. He had unusually pale skin for one born on the desert world. Daniels skin was a rich tan, despite the fact he had hardly spent more than a twenty hours outside in his life. Further segregating him from his fellows, Xerxus possessed blonde hair and eyes of a startling blue. Clearly aware of the eyes on him, he began to shuffle his feet, and fumble with his bag. The embroidery on it looked strange to Daniel, the letters forming nothing he could understand.

"Your from off-world, aren't you?" The unnamed recruit inquired.

"Not quite." Xerxus replied, eyes glued to the floor. "My family has been here for fifty years."

"So you're basically from off world?"

Xerxus straightened his shoulders and scowled at the him. "I was born on this world, same as you! I am a son of Yosemight VI, and no other!"

His sudden vindictiveness took his heckler by surprise, but he quickly recovered, a smirk growing on his face. "A son of Yosemight? You're family might as well have just left the ship! My forefathers have toiled on Yosemight for centuries!"

"And what would be the name of said fathers?" Daniel asked. The two of them looked at him, it having been the first time he spoke.

The heckler was silent for a moment, before answering, "Darzei."

Daniel recognized the name, and the newly dubbed Darzei knew he did. Any trace of a smirk had vanished. Xerxus looked between the two of them, clearly confused, but neither offered an explanation.

The death world of Yosemight VI held three major ethnic groups. Daniel belonged to the first, which consisted of the noble families that had come to rule the world for countless centuries, marrying only amongst each other to form the 'purebred' upper class. The second, thus far unrepresented, was actually an amalgamation of various ethic groups which, over time, had merged into a single culture found only within the hives of Yosemight. Though each hive varied radically, to the nobility of the world, they all belonged to a single 'lesser' breed.

The third population, far larger in size than the nobles but far smaller than the hivers, where the peoples who had learned to survive in the unforgiving deserts of the world. They were nomadic, fierce and, compared to most, primitive. They etched out a living in the wastes, with little to nothing with which to trade for modern appliances, so they often lived without. Despite their backwards ways, the wasters were still required to answer the Imperial Tithe when called. They just needed some extra training in order to integrate, many having never seen a real lasgun. There were occasional instances where wasters managed to haggle their way into the hives, but they were remarkably rare. Incredibly, there was even an instance of one such family rising to the very top of the spire, their shrewd mercantile methods helping them climb the societal ladder. That family was called Darzei.

After another long period of awkward silence, the tension finally broke when the lift stopped and the doors opened.

The three young men stepped out into the hive proper, and walked straight for the massive complex that could only belong the the Departmento Munitorum. The three came from different backgrounds, but each were used to an Olympian standard of living. The experience that was the Imperial Guard was about to give them the greatest shock of their lives, and, very possibly, their last one.

_**IN THE EMPERORS NAME**_

Well, I'm updating after two weeks, so this is already going way better than any other story I've attempted. Not a whole lot of dialogue thus far, but then Daniel hasn't had a ton of human interaction yet (his family doesn't count.). I promise there will be more dialogue in the chapters to come, and please let me know how I'm doing describing things. Feedback will only make my writing better! Next chapter, Daniel and his new companions are off to boot camp! If anyone has suggestions for what kind of torture I should put them through, feel free to let me know. They are definitely not going to enjoy it :) With a possible job and midterms on the horizon, I'm not sure when I'll be able to update next, but I'll see if I cant keep it at a chapter every two weeks. I also plan to try and keep them at this length, but I honestly don't know how consistent I can keep that. Thank you to those who commented or followed, and in the name of the Emperor may my readers continue to do so!


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